Hall of Akashic Records
by The BladeShip
Summary: Kind of a reincarnation fic.but in reverse.This is a story that mingles the lives of the Animorphs with their past lives.Rating is T to be safe.WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS PAGAN VEIWS.IF THIS IS OFFENSIVE TO YOU THEN DO NOT READ. I UPDATED.YAY.
1. Prologue

Yes Yes. It is true. I am writing a story. I will finish my other stories at least Illusion but Journey is in a coma and Needs help. Any ideas would be apriciated. This is a reincarnation fic, but in reverse. It is about the Animorphs in past lifes. Lives, pardon. This story has some Wiccan/Pagan veiws.

Hall of Akashic Records..

Prologue.

The Ellimist does not sleep.  
He does not require rest to survive.  
He is Omnipresent. He is all-seeing.  
But even he cannot escape the laws of the Universe. Even he is not a god.  
The Ellimist, though not a god, is privy to some information that others can not aquire without meditation.The Hall of Akashic Records.

And thus our story begins.

Okay. Done. This story will continue as will Journey and Illusion, I hope. R&R PLZZZZZZZZ


	2. Prologue 2

Okay. It's here. Hall chapter two. Journey has a message: (As The Fly) "Help me! Help me!" Okay. But Journey has some hope. I've began to work again on the next chapter. So okay. YA YA. Journey is put on break but **NOT** terminated. Illusion is terminated pending a possible rewrite. Sorry AllOrNone. But keep an eye out for the rewrite. I have been all but shut off from internet access which is why I have not updated. I shall try to update soon but cannot promise.

The first paragraph, as well as the description of the Hall, was found in _Wicca: The Complete Craft. _By D.J. Conway.

I do not own the animorphs. I have never claimed to own the Animorphs. I hate fish.

Hall of Akashic Records

Prologue Part Two

It was a time that was not a time, in a place that was not a place, on a day that was not a day. He stood at the threshold between worlds, before the Veil of the Mysteries.

The _Rachel_ flew towards the Blade Ship. And all he did was watch. And for once in his long existence, the Ellimist felt helpless.

Crayak was there. He was smiling. Or as close to a smile as he could come. It was more like a slight twist in the fabric of their realm. A wrinkle in the ether.

The Ellimist tried to hide his helplessness.

"What are you smiling about? You've lost."

Crayak chuckled. Not so much an actual sound as a pulsing beat. A mere feeling.

"Lost? Prehaps so. But I would consider it more of a draw. I take solace in that fact."

Ellimist reached out and grasped the tiny pearly white strands of space-time. All of the Animorphs. He examined each. Their lives and deeds. But it was still not enough. It was not enough of them. They were his warriors. And this was all there was to remain in monument to them? It was not enough.

With a sigh, that was not a sigh, he released them...and they died. So plainly. No ceremony. No monument. Nothing remained of these great people. It was just...wrong.

Crayak laughed. A booming pulse through the realm.

"Well, it's over. Hehe. Prehaps another game?"

Ellimist lost it. He threw all his anger, all his lethal rage at Crayak. A giant shimmering sphere. A glowing ball of rage. It flew through countless strands. It simply knocked thousands of setient beings out of existance. But it passed through the entity known as Crayak without harm. And again, Crayak laughed.

"Come now, Ellimist. I thought we agreed that fighting was pointless."

He laughed again.

"Well, prehaps another time then."

And he left. He left Ellimist alone. To think. And think he did. He thought about many things. Many interesting things. But, alas, the Ellimist's musings are another tale for another time.

But his intent to learn more about these wonderous beings known as Animorphs was clear as he hoisted himself mentaly up and, with a deap breath that was not a breath, encased himself in white light.

OKAY. SO wow. two chapters. okay. Um prologue 3 coming up.


	3. Prologue 3

Wow. Three prologues. That's new. Usually I do not have more than one. Well. The disclaimer form last chapter is going to have to do because I will not rewrite it. Okay. Once again: Journey is put on break but **NOT** terminated. Illusion is terminated pending a possible rewrite. Sorry AllOrNone. But keep an eye out for the rewrite.

P.S. For anyone who doesn't know, The Hall of Akashic Records is the place in the Astral Planes where the record of everyone's past lives is kept. It can be reached through deep meditation, also known as Astral Projection.

Okay.

Hall of Akashic Records

Prologue Part Three

The Hall of Akashic Records stood majestically against the bright blue sky. The Ellimist remembered it well, though he had not been here in a while. Several hundred years, in fact. Though, to a creature as ageless as him, it seemed only an eye blink. However, the Ellimist had neither eyes nor eyelids, and, therefore, did not blink.

He glanced over to his left and saw the familiar white horse. It led him up to the seven steps into the wooden double doors that stood open. The steps, like the entire building, were white marble, and above them were carved the words: "Hall of Akashic Records".

The Ellimist was in his old man guise. He wore it all the time in the Astral World because many of the people there were human or had been human. He took a deep breath, before walking through the doors.

The interior of the Hall was brilliant white with tiers of golden shelves. The shelves held books and some held scrolls tied with golden ribbons. On the floor in front of the Ellimist were rows of tables with glass tops that appeared slightly domed. Around these tables were armchairs, many holding people, some human, some not.

There were four desks sitting on raised sections of the floor. These desks were made of white marble and sat, one in each corner. Mingling with the crowd of beings were people who were assigned to help.

The Ellimist passed the tables and help desks and went straight to the stairs that wound up the many levels of the Hall.

OK. Tell me what you think. I swear, no more prologues. Hopefully.


	4. Chapter One

Okay, folks. I got news. The B.S. is in love. I won't say more over the internet. Besides, you people don't come here for my life story. You come here for my fanfiction. So without Further B.S. The B.S. Presents As one reveiwer put it, The Meat:

Chapter 1

Incarnations:

Cassie: Cassandra "Cass" Louis

Marco: Marcel Johnson

Jake: Jacob Benson

Rachel: Rachel Benson

Tobias: Tony "T-Fang" Fangor

She opened her eyes and listened for the intruder. Her hand went to her gun tucked firmly under her pillow.

"Relax, Hun. It's only me," came a voice from the other side of the bed.

Cassandra breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed her fingers around the grip of her Beretta. She sat up and kissed Jacob, shaking off the nightmare she had been having.

When they parted he noticed the look in her eyes.

"Honey? What's the matter?"

She shook her head.

"Nothing. Just a nightmare."

He looked inquiring, but was cut off from asking anything by the ringing of the phone from the bedside table. He sighed.

"Duty calls," he said.

"Yeah."

She picked the phone up from its cradle and pressed it to her ear.

"Hello?"

The voice of Chief Chapman came to the other end of the line, crisp and neat, like always.

"Louis, we just got a tip on Marcel Johnson. I need you and Benson prepped and ready in half an hour."

Her heart tightened with excitement.

"Yes, sir," she said, and hung up. Her mind raced. Marcel Johnson! This was the chance they had been waiting for. Wow, Marcel Johnson! She looked excitedly at Jacob as she jumped up and threw her clothes on.

"They just got a tip on Johnson! They want us there now," she said, barely containing a smile. Elation shone in Jacob's eyes and a smile came to his face uncontained.

"Really! That's great! We gotta go!"

"Yeah," Cass replied, pulling the gun from under the pillow and placing it in the holster strapped to her side. She put on her jacket and stuffed her badge in the pocket. She bent to tie her shoes.

"Let's go," Jacob said, but Cass was already at the door, waiting. He smiled. And they left, slamming the door behind them.

ẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶẶ

Cass crept past the sliding door of the warehouse and motioned for Jacob to follow her. He smiled and complied with a small nod. Cass noticed him tighten his grip on the gun he was holding. Not a single drop of sweat fell from his face.

_He's really keeping his cool_, she thought to herself.

The small bud in her ear crackled, suddenly, to life amidst a shower of static.

"Green Slug _to _Grey Wolf _and _Orange Tiger_. Do you copy?"_

Cass laughed silently at Chief Chapman's chosen code name. Struggling to keep her amusement out of her voice, she replied in a whisper,

"Grey Wolf copys."

"Orange Tiger _copys."_

Cass glanced over to Jacob and gave him a smile. He smiled back and shifted his body into a crouch which she mirrored.

"_Okay, guys. Our tipper placed _Marcel _in the back of this ware house. He's selling drugs to a man calling himself _The Visser_. He's got an unknown female with him as well as several armed guards, including _T-Fang_. Don't worry, we've got _'Scopes' _in position."_

"Copy that, Green Slug," Cass replied into the mike on her collar. She glanced over to Jacob and then followed his gaze up to the roof where the snipers were getting in position.

He glanced at her and then began to count down with his fingers. As soon as his third finger hit his palm she kicked open the door in front of her.

The interior of the warehouse was dank and musty and the layer of dust in the floor was such that the footprints shone as bright as spotlights. In the back of the building, the four people sitting at the table, as well as the six armed guards, turned to face to sudden noise and burst of light.

Cass donned her cop voice and shouted,

"Okay people! Hands up!"

But, naturally, her command had the opposite effect. Nine hands went to nine guns and the air erupted with the spray of bullets carving their lethal paths.

Okay. R&R PLZ. I hope you enjoyed it. More to come so stick around.


	5. CHapter two

Okay. Here is the next part of incarnation one. I know that you are looking forward to it so here goes.

Chapter Two

Incarnations:

Cassie: Cassandra "Cass" Louis

Marco: Marcel Johnson

Jake: Jacob Benson

Rachel: Rachel Benson

Tobias: Tony "T-Fang" Fangor

Cass fell down behind a large steel crate with Jacob at her side. The nodded briefly to each other before lifting up and beginning to pick the guards off, one by one. Cass shot two while Jacob three in quick succession. As they both fell back behind the safety of the crate, she shook her head.

"Show off," she muttered.

Jacob smiled and (as if to accent his abilities) shot the gun out of the hand of the last guard.

The guard looked shocked for about two seconds before he turned tail and ran. The man known as The Visser let out a snarl. And another gunshot rang through the warehouse, leaving the final guard dead in its wake.

"Surrender!"

Cass's demand was met with hostility. And for the second time she found herself diving for cover. Jacob took amusement at their predicament. He donned his best Sly Stallone voice and declared:

"I am…The Law...Put down…your weapons."

The friendly gangsters were not amused. And, as the next volley of shots smashed into the crate, Cassandra shot "Judge Dredd" a look that firmly said "shut up". He donned his best puppy dog face and shifted lower.

While they were cowering behind their shield, Marcel Johnson decided to take advantage of the situation. He decided to get his money without having to sell his coke. He shifted to the right and put a bullet through The Visser's head.

The Visser turned his head, a trickle of blood flowing its way down his forehead, and looked Marcel square in the eyes. Marcel gasped.

The Visser was not dead. And he was not pleased.

Cassandra popped up from behind the crate and was met by a sight that would forever haunt her. The man known only as "The Visser" was turning a strange shade of blue and sprouting the horns of a demon. Horns with eyes.

Cass rubbed her eyes to be sure of what she had thought she saw. And this cost her small confirmation cost her dearly, for The Visser (as Marcel stood dumbstruck in front of him) pointed his pistol at her and, without looking, fired a shot through her stomach.

Everything went black.

Okay. Sorry it took so long but it's here and the rest should be up soon. I promise.

PlzR&R


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